


If the Pie Matters

by superglo



Category: Arcadia - Stoppard
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superglo/pseuds/superglo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomasina strays from her assigned studies to ruminate on pie, and the local rabbit population. A missing scene with Septimus and Thomasina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If the Pie Matters

_Thomasina is sitting at the table, doing her Latin translations, but she has started drawing, and is mumbling to herself. Septimus is seated at his desk, reading. He stands up, and peers over at her work; she is drawing a rabbit._

**Septimus** My lady, I struggle to locate your translation in your present occupation, will you not assist me?

 **Thomasina** I will not. Homer is far superior to Cleopatra, but my mind is elsewhere.

 **Septimus** I can see that; there are no rabbits in the Odyssey.

 **Thomasina** It is your fault.

 **Septimus** The pie?

 **Thomasina** Just as the leftover pie sits cooling in the pantry, it sits in my stomach and I feel it like a stone. I thought of this at the evening meal, but my mother deemed it unfit for the dinner table.

 **Septimus** ( _distracted_ ) My ladyship is not wrong; it is rude to draw rabbits at the dinner table. 

**Thomasina** ( _exasperated_ ) Septimus, you know that is not what I mean. 

**Septimus** ( _eyes still on his papers)_ No? Then if you will tell me, I will listen.

 **Thomasina** You shot a rabbit for the pie. That has affected the population of rabbits in Derbyshire, correct? 

**Septimus** Of course. 

**Thomasina** _Yes_ , but say we had the equation for rabbits in Derbyshire; does that not mean your shooting the rabbit for the pie is like a variable in the equation?

 _Septimus pauses; lifting his head from his work, but does not look at Thomasina._

**Thomasina** Septimus! 

**Septimus** Hm.

 **Thomasina** ( _demanding_ ) Does the pie matter? 

**Septimus** I’m sure it does. 

**Thomasina** Hmph! 

_The room lapses into silence. Septimus takes a pen from his pocket, and writes something down._

**Septimus** It matters. 

**Thomasina** ( _considers_ ) Good. I will begin it. 

_Thomasina puts aside her drawing, and takes up her other papers._

**Septimus** ( _feigned sigh_ ) If that is what must be done, then there is no other choice. 

**Thomasina** ( _pleased_ ) My mother won’t be pleased. 

**Septimus** And as I seek only her ladyship’s gladness and satisfaction, it should be pleasing to her that she never hear of it. Go on, then. 

_Thomasina begins writing on a fresh piece of paper._

**Thomasina** ( _muttering_ )If the pie matters, a fox must too. Just as we eat a pie, a fox may eat a rabbit. How many foxes are there in Derbyshire? That will matter, too.

_Thomasina drifts back into silence, but begins writing furiously on her page. After a moment, she pauses, frowning._

**Septimus** My lady?

 **Thomasina** The population of rabbits in Derbyshire is more complicated than one would ever know. I have begun the equation, and I have accounted for the variables I’ve thought of; rabbits being shot, foxes eating the rabbits, the number of foxes in Derbyshire that _may_ eat the rabbits, the number of people who may shoot the foxes who may eat the rabbits… it seems that just as I have thought of one thing, another thing appears. I may never finish it all. If only it would all stay still.

 **Septimus** I suppose the only thing to do is to carry on. You will never finish it otherwise, and your translation will be submitted to a fate of languishing in its unfinished state for all eternity.

 **Thomasina** ( _laughs_ ) You are being dramatic, Septimus. I know this because you told me when I was being so, and it is much the same.

 **Septimus** I am glad that you have come to understand some of the finer nuances of human expression. However, you had better return to your pie if you are to retire to bed before dawn.

 **Thomasina** It is not a pie, anymore. It is a great puddle of ideas and equations, and I am sure it is going to become a sea.

_Septimus rises from his chair and begins shuffling through his papers on the table._

**Septimus** You will let me know, if you need to be fished out?

 **Thomasina** Don't be silly. I can swim.

_Septimus turns. Concentrating, Thomasina does not see him hide a smile behind the papers he takes up again. She hums. The lights go down._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago and never shared it. I found that I was still somewhat fond of it, so here we are. Thanks for reading!


End file.
